Tired

It would be one thing if I was fried because I had been hanging out with friends until dawn or engaged in some marathon binge of sex that tested the limits of my endurance and hydration levels. Unfortunately, it's not as delightful when my slumber was curtailed through no fault of my own save a brain that would not stop actively chasing tangents like a litter of bloodhound puppies in the middle of a wildlife preserve. Eight hours of yawning and attempting to drift off cocooned nicely in a peacefully dark room, because I'm that bloody stubborn, and I don't think I even managed a half-hearted doze. Suffice to say, I am somewhat unamused by the resultant attenuation of the world around me.

Fortunately, I can glide through today by further consolidating the dwindling survivors of our VHS purge and receiving the latest bounty left by the shipping companies.

And Lo, by the grace of caffeine do packing peanuts not get repurposed into high-speed porn clerk landing mounds.